Photographs and Memories
by Madam Wigglesworth
Summary: Vince doesn't know how he lost his memories. All he knows is he's in this castle, with a room they say is his... and photographs of him apparently involved with one of his rescuers. One shot... for now. Pidge/Vince


They led him to a room they said was his, saying it might be more comfortable for him to be in a place that was familiar. Vince found it funny; nothing was familiar right now, so what did it matter? It would have been easier to convince him that a guest room was his. How would he know what his possessions are?

He looked around his room - knickknacks, books, papers strewn about… all evidence to a life he didn't recognize anymore.

His guide - _Keith, I think?_ \- said something about calling anybody if he needed anything. He looked at the panel the older man gestured to, nodding, but not fully understanding what he meant. The panel was as unfamiliar as everything else in the room. The door closed. He was left alone.

Painfully, horrifyingly alone. There was a Rubik's Cube and a chess set sitting on a desk. It appeared in mid-game. Did he like chess? Would be remember the rules if he looked at the board long enough?

He collapsed on his bed, his legs shaking, feeling dizzy. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe, trying to focus on any one thing he KNEW he had control of - he knew he would stay calm if he just breathed. His head felt like it was on sensory overload.

He'd noticed a lamp on a bedside table. He blindly reached for it. His hand bumped into an object which clattered loudly on the floor. Vince jumped, frazzled, close to screaming in confusion. He should have asked for a guest room. Maybe the panel was easier to figure out then he'd given it credit for. Maybe he could be by himself, surrounded by nothing, and figure out who HE was.

He absently reached for the item that fell to the floor, desperate to find anything to still his shaking hands. It was a thick-covered book, its weight impressive as he slid it across the floor and picked it up by its spine. As he set it on his knee, something flittered from the back onto the floor. He stared at the two faces smiling back at him.

One of them was his.

He was happy, smiling broadly, standing behind another young man with an arm around his waist. He grabbed the picture, staring wide-eyed. Finally, something he recognized! The other man in the picture was smiling too, and it was clear they were comfortable around each other. Familiar.

But what was his _name_? He didn't recall hearing it when that group picked him up from… Doom, was its name, wasn't it? He remembered seeing this person, and what had struck him most was not only how concerned he seemed for his well being… but how _sad_ he'd looked. He'd said nothing. Vince had only seen him that one time.

"Hey."

He jumped. Suddenly the man from the picture was standing in his door.

"Sorry, I…" he trailed off, gesturing to a corner of the room. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just need to grab something and I'll be out of your way."

Vince watched him rush into the room and open… oh. There was a closet. It was _huge._ All these clothes and shoes and…

"Is-is this your room?" Vince stood, holding the picture in his hand. "They told me it was mine. I can leave."

The other man was small and lyth, with wide green eyes covered by glasses. He struggled for a second. "It is yours. But it's fine. You're more than welcome to stay here. I was going to be in a guest room for a while."

"I'll happily trade you," Vince moved closer to him, still waving the picture around. "Unless there's an adjoining bedroom or something. You don't have to be in a guest room. I don't want to intrude." A thought struck him. He pointed at the clothes in the other mans hands. "Are those mine?" They looked like they'd be too big for him.

"They're mine." Now he noticed it - a strained sadness he tried to hide. "Yours are on the right side."

"So there _is_ an another bedroom?"

He paused a long moment, looking away. "No."

Vince frowned. "I don't understand. If this is my room, then-" He turned to look at the items behind him and finally noticed the Queen-sized bed he'd been sitting on.

Not a single. A Queen.

Oh.

For _two…_

 _Oh._

He looked at the picture again, feeling two feet tall. Now that he saw it in new light, it seemed obvious what the tone of it was - they were close. Very close. They leaned against each other comfortably. Happy. Together. A couple.

Vince looked up at the other man. He was looking at the picture and smiled sadly. "You said you'd take just one and promised you wouldn't frame it. It didn't seem necessary when we were always with each other."

Vince was shaking. He sat on the bed again. This man was… they were… and oh God, he didn't remember it at all.

"Breathe, Vince." The man took a step closer to him, but hesitated. "I told them you might want a guest room. This is all too damn much, isn't it?"

Vince didn't feel like it would be so much if he could just get some _answers._ "I…" He buried his head in his hands, trying to breathe, then peered up at the man over them. "Look… I don't… I don't want to hurt you, but…" He looked at those green eyes for a moment. There _was_ no way to ask without hurting him. "What's your name?"

To his credit, the man's face faltered for mere seconds before he collected himself. "Pidge."

The name didn't uncover a mountain of memories like he hoped it would. "Pidge," he repeated. He held up the picture. "How long have we…?" He didn't want to ask. He didn't want to hurt other people when all he wanted was answers.

"Three years."

Vince nodded. "Have we… known each other long?"

"Four and a half years."

He couldn't help it. "So, we hit it off well?"

Pidge's face looked a little stony. Vince couldn't figure out why. "Yeah. But it took you a while to be honest with me."

"Why?"

"You were a cadet drugged with hero worship when you got here. That was clear to everybody. Then you fell in love with me, which was obvious to everyone but us. Then you became my successor and you felt it wasn't right even though everyone knew it was coming."

"Your successor? What, are you…" He looked around the room, realizing he still didn't have a guess what he did. "What are we?"

"We're pilots. Well… you're the main pilot, and I'm the control operator at the Castle of Lions."

"We're…" He paled, dropping his voice. "We're part of a military unit? And people are okay with that?"

Pidge, to his surprise, smirked. "We're not that formal. One of our pilots married the monarch. It's kind of a thing around here."

Monarchs… pilots… he's a pilot… he puts his head between his knees. The world is spinning. He's in a committed relationship that has gone on for _three years_ and he doesn't… oh _God…_

"Deep breaths." The voice was close, but not uncomfortably so. Pidge was suddenly sitting next to him, rubbing his back and speaking quietly. "Slow, deep breaths. If you breathe too quickly it'll make you feel worse."

"You're…" he puffed. "... surprisingly calm about all of this…"

The hand slid around his side, but suddenly retreated. Was that supposed to be a familiar gesture? Was Pidge trying to be affectionate? "Calm is something I do best in this relationship."

What was that supposed to mean? Nothing made sense. _Nothing made sense!_ He felt like he was on sensory overload. He clamped his cool hands over his eyes. "Look… I don't want to seem rude or anything, but this is a lot to take in, and I don't know… I'd really rather be alone right now."

He stilled. Pidge didn't move for a moment, but when he stood, his voice sounded strange. "I understand. Of course. If you need anything, you can reach me - or the others, if you prefer - with the comm on the nightstand."

He waited until Pidge left before he lifted his head. He looked at the discarded picture, frowned, and kneeled back at the side of the bed where he found the picture. He lifted the skirt to make sure it landed far away from him when he threw it, and was met with more smiling faces.

He stared. Smiling faces. _Their_ faces. Laughing, scowling, surprised, with the other people - his teammates? - by themselves… they looked back mockingly, memories frozen in time and unwilling to tell him their secrets. He stood, looking around the room.

Trapped.


End file.
